Valley of Fire (Valley of the Moon Book 2)

by Bronwyn Archer

  He was Alexander’s biological father, but he could have been his older brother. His face was sun-weathered, and his hair was grayish-blonde instead of inky dark. He wasn’t as tall as his son, but he was strikingly handsome.

  Even with his thick mustache.

  “Your parents know where you are, honey? You need to call anybody? I’ve got a satellite phone on board.”

  “My dad knows I’m with Alexander. My mother’s dead.”

  He looked genuinely horrified and gave me a sad smile.

  “I’m very sorry to hear that, Lana.”

  “It’s okay. It was a long time ago.”

  Alexander and I wolfed down turkey subs we grabbed out of the cooler Pete had packed at home and washed them down with cans of beer—Root for me, Coors for him. We’d both taken quick showers at Pete’s house while he’d prepped for an impromptu midnight cruise to New York.

  On Pete’s urging, I’d changed into some of his girlfriend Vera’s clothes. I wore yoga pants, a sweatshirt with the words “Virginia is for Lovers” emblazoned on it, a navy pea coat, and pink UGG boots that were too tight. After being wet and cold for so long it was the most heavenly outfit I’d ever worn.

  Alexander was in a pair of his dad’s faded Levis, a flannel button down shirt, and a sailing jacket while his other clothes hung on a line on the deck. He looked like a lumberjack. His hair was mussed and he had faint stubble on his cheeks.

  “Where’s Vera again?” he asked his dad.

  “Visiting her sister.”

  “When are you gonna marry her?”

  “Tried that once. You remember how it turned out.”

  Alexander rolled his eyes.

  “Storm’s moved off at least,” Pete said. “Came through last night and damaged a few boats.”

  “Did you leave her tied up or did you sail out?”

  “Left her in.”

  “Little bit risky, Dad.”

  Pete scowled. “A man needs a little risk in his life.” He made a few notes on his chart and smirked. “Do you know Vera hates the water? Gets seasick.” He shook his head.

  Alexander laughed and sipped his beer. “Nobody’s perfect.” Peter looked up and glared at his son. Then he grinned. He had the same deep dimples. His eyes shot to mine. I withered a little under his glare.

  “Miss Goodwin, how old did you say you were?”

  “Eighteen.”

  His eyes shot to Alexander. “I see,” he said, rubbing his chin and nodding. “Cousins, you say?”

  “Well, yeah. My mother was an Ambrose,” I explained. “So technically, we are. Distant cousins.”

  “My son’s not an Ambrose, so cousins is a stretch.” He tore off the chart he was marking and stood up. “We’re ready to roll. Alex, how about you show your . . . cousin her berth. She can take the captain’s quarters.” He narrowed his eyes at Alexander. “You get a bunk.”

  Alexander took my hand. “Let’s go, Lana. I’m going to tuck you in nice and snug.”

  “Not too snug,” Pete muttered under his breath.

  I stood up and smiled at Pete. “Thank you, Mr. Parrish. I’m so grateful I don’t even know what to say.”

  He looked up at me and his eyes looked a little sad. “It’s Pete. And I should thank you, Lana. I haven’t seen the boy in . . . a long time.” He turned to squint through the window at the black ocean in front of us. “Alex, take her down and then come back up. I want to talk to you.”

  Alexander squeezed my hand as he led me towards the short wooden staircase. “Sure, Dad. Be right back.”

  #

  When we got to the bottom of the stairs, we walked down a narrow walkway to the rear of the boat. He pushed open a door and stepped outside and onto the stern. The Eleanor Rigby’s foamy wake unspooled behind us. The sea was dark and endless. The Virginia coast looked like a string of Christmas lights floating on the water.

  I looked up at the inky sky to our east and gasped.

  The storm had blown west, leaving a perfectly clear night in its wake. The Milky Way stretched across the Atlantic Ocean and the sky was absolutely littered with stars.

  He reached for my hand and squeezed it tight. My insides quaked.

  “How do you feel?” he asked.

  “Nervous.”

  “It’s all going to work out. You’ll see.”

  “I can’t believe we’re actually going to make it,” I said.

  “Don’t jinx it, we’re not there yet.”

  I secretly dreaded the next phase. My rich phase. There would be no more Alexander within arms reach. Our faces were just inches away from each other and my heart fluttered under my sweatshirt. His eyes swept across my face and I tried to form words, but they were pinned to my tongue. The boat lurched over a large wave and I stumbled into him. He caught me around the waist and held me there.

  One truth was clear: I wasn’t in love him because he made me lose my mind just by holding my hand.

  I was in love with him because he got me help when I was hurt and bleeding. He’d agreed to drive me across the country. He’d fought a posse of drunk frat boys. He’d woken up his estranged father when all hope was lost.

  He’d walked towards Sergei’s gun.

  Wind whipped my damp hair in every direction. I raked my fingers through it and did my best to tame it.

  “I know this has all been way more than you signed up for. So no matter what happens after tomorrow, I’ll never forget what you did for me. Although I wouldn’t blame you if you hated me after what I put you through.”

  “Hate you?” His eyes softened. “I wish I hated you.”

  My raw, exposed heart quivered like I’d ripped it out of my chest and handed it to him. An old question bothered me, like a pin pressing into the thin skin of a balloon: Why had he said yes to Severine?

  “I think Severine made a mistake asking you to find me,” I said. “Look what I put you through.”

  He dropped his arms and took a step away from me. The boat rocked and swayed and I clutched the rail. His shoulders tensed and his brow furrowed.

  “You still don’t get it, do you? I’ve been trying to find you for practically my whole life! Searching for the little girl I met in the cemetery. Did you know when I ran into you that day, at Claudette’s funeral, I was hiding from Soren and Gretchen? They hated me. I was their new stepbrother. When they weren’t ignoring me, they tormented me. When you saw me, I guess I was crying, because you took my hand and said, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.’”

  He stared out at the sea. “Here was this little girl with freckles in a furry white coat giving me the confidence to fight back. And after that, I did.” He turned to face me with fathomless eyes as deep as the sea. “For years afterwards, I thought maybe you’d been a ghost, since you vanished that day. I always wondered who you were. When Severine called and told me about you, I figured it must have been you.” My knuckles were white as I gripped the railing. I just had scraps of memory from that day. The crunchy snowballs in my woolen gloves, the wet ice flakes on my cheeks.

  “I wanted it to be you,” he said. “I hoped it was you. And that, Lana, is why I’m here.”

  I stared at him, stunned. I wanted to throw my arms around him, tell him how much I loved him, that I was completely and totally in love with him. But the words dissolved on my tongue like tissue paper. I still didn’t have the courage to reveal the truth.

  “Good answer,” I whispered. He cocked his head and smiled slyly.

  “Now let’s go tuck you in.”

  #

  “Here’s your ten-second safety briefing.” He pointed to a hatch cut into the wall. “Lifejackets are stowed there.” He pointed to a lever on the wall near the doorway. “GPS emergency distress call. If we’re sinking, or some Russians show up in a floating Lamborghini, pull that lever and it alerts the Coast Guard. All boats this size have one.”

  “Ay ay, Captain.”

  He showed me into a cozy wooden cabin with paneled walls and a good-sized bed neatly made
up with a navy-and-white comforter. There were at least a dozen pillows embroidered with anchors and starfish on the bed.

  He looked around and laughed. “I haven’t been in here in years. Those pillows are new.”

  “Vera must like needlepoint,” I said. “Does your dad smoke a pipe?”

  “Yeah. He went full Popeye. Hope you don’t mind.”

  “No, it’s fine. I like your dad, by the way.”

  “He’s mellowed with age.”

  I plopped down on the bed and looked up at him.

  He stood silently, staring at me. “Lana, how did you get out of that car?”

  I fell silent. Chills crept up my arms. “Did you ever have problems with the windows in your car?”

  “No, why?”

  “The door wouldn’t open with the water pushing on it and when I pressed the window buttons, nothing happened. It was sinking, and I thought I was going to die. Then they all just . . . opened. All four of them rolled down by themselves and I swam out.”

  He eased himself onto the bed next to me. “The electronics must have shorted when they got wet. Or . . . maybe someone’s looking out for you.” Yes, that. That last thing you said. That’s it.

  Would he believe me if I told him how the impossible tended to happen around me? The times I was certain my ghostly godmother intervened to save me? Maybe. But I was too tired to tell him my ghost stories.

  I pulled off my coat and Vera’s boots and crawled onto the bed. I stretched out on my back and put my arms behind my head.

  “This bed is really comfortable.” My body ached to feel him lying next to me.

  “Why are you looking at me like that?” he growled.

  “I’m waiting for you to tuck me in.” I tilted my head and batted my eyes at him. He raised his eyebrows in surprise. Then he grabbed my foot and dragged me closer. I yelped and tried to wiggle away.

  He leaned over me and pinned me down. “Haven’t I done enough for you? You totaled my car.”

  “I’ll buy you a new one.”

  “I’ll accept other forms of payment,” he replied in a low, mischievous voice.

  We stared at each other for a long beat, and then his hands slid behind my head, pushing my face to his. He kissed me with a renewed sense of urgency. Like it was the last time. One of his hands snuck under my back and pressed my body closer.

  My skin responded instantly, things tightening and hardening in the wake of his touch. It was electric.

  Boots stomped across the deck overhead and a voice call out, “Alex! Get your ass topside!”

  We broke apart. “Coming, Pops!” he called out. His eyes burned into me. His finger traced a lazy circle on my cheek.

  “What am I going to do with you, Lana?” His eyes sparkled.

  Do anything you want. Do everything you want.

  “I’m sure you’ll think of something,” I said. He grinned and scooted off the bed. In that snug little cabin, I drifted to sleep on dreams of Alexander Ambrose in my everloving arms.

  #

  I wiggled into Vera’s size XS pencil skirt and pulled on her blazer over my own tank top. I had to squeeze my feet into her flats, which were half a size too small, but I’d survive.

  I had no wallet, no purse, no watch, no belongings. I combed my hair with my fingers and sighed.

  I didn’t look like the heir to a glorious fortune. I looked like a tired teenager in a grown woman’s clothes.

  Except for the diamond dove hanging around my neck.

  “Lana, five minutes!” Alexander yelled from outside the cabin door.

  I peeked out the porthole.

  The Manhattan skyline shimmered in the bright morning sun.

  #

  We tied up at the 79th Street Boat Basin, a small pier jutting into the Hudson River. The sun was up and the warm June morning sparkled with promise. Sleek white yachts and some long speed boats were docked there. One of the yachts had a helipad on its deck. I watched from the deck as a small black helicopter landed on it. Hurricane-force winds whipped the water and an older man in a sleek black suit, slim leather briefcase, and huge mirrored sunglasses emerged and hurried towards the steps leading up to the street.

  “Welcome to New York City,” Alexander said. “Thanks again, Dad.”

  Pete clapped a hand on his shoulder. “Listen to me—you call me, okay?”

  “I will, Dad.”

  “You promise this time?”

  Alexander wrapped his arms around Pete. “I promise. Say hi to Vera.” He stepped over to the ladder and looked at me. “Ready, Lana?”

  I glanced at his father. Pete shook my hand and then pulled me in for a hug. “Good luck, Miss Lana Goodwin.”

  “Thank you. I’ll never be able to thank you for what you did.”

  “My pleasure. Next time we’ll take a day cruise, okay?” He winked at me.

  “Please thank Vera for the clothes,” I said. “I’ll send them back to her when I can.”

  He grinned at me. “Keep them. I got Alex back, Lana. Small price to pay.”

  Chapter 16

  Lacus Somniorum ~ Lake of Dreams

  We climbed the rough stone steps that led up to the street from the marina.

  And then, finally, at long last—Manhattan. Cabs, people on bicycles, buses, and pedestrians packed the streets and sidewalks.

  “Where do we need to go?”

  “57th and Fifth.”

  “Can we walk?”

  He looked at me like I’d ask him to carry me on his back. Right on cue, a slick black limo pulled up in front of us. The driver hopped out and pulled the door open for us.

  Off my look of amazement, Alexander grinned and said, “Get used to it, heiress.”

  #

  My stomach churned. I had imagined my arrival in New York much differently. I’d pictured getting to campus in August, meeting my roommate, stressing about how I was going to pay for my books.

  I had not pictured cruising through midtown in a limo sitting next to someone like Alexander Ambrose.

  “I’ll try to find us a place to stay tonight. I got like three hours sleep.” He got on his phone and made a call. “A suite? That’s fine. We should be checking in this afternoon.” Chills broke out all over my body. A suite. He ended the call and gave me a sly smile. “Is a suite okay with you? It’s all they had.” I looked at him, confused.

  “But . . . you don’t need to stay with me anymore. Wouldn’t you rather stay at your family’s apartment?” I asked.

  He reacted with horror. “The townhouse? Are you kidding? Gretchen and Roy are staying there right now. But if you’d rather be alone, I can stay at a different hotel.”

  “It’s fine!” I almost shouted. “I mean,” I said softly, “I don’t mind.”

  “Good.” He flipped his tractor beams on and my stomach dropped. The look in his eyes was like molten heat and my body responded instantly.

  But I was also terrified. Our trip was over. As soon as he got back to his normal life, he’d forget about his little flirtation with me. The limo bounced over a speed bump. Alexander’s eyes didn’t leave mine.

  He is going to break your heart and crush it into little pieces. You think you’ll ever be more than his roadside distraction? What will his family do when they find out you seduced your own cousin?

  I cleared my throat. “So, no one can know about what happened on the road, right? I mean, if your parents or your sister found out about you and . . . me?”

  Alexander regarded me coolly. The divider between the back seat and the driver slid up and clicked shut.

  “I’m honestly not sure.”

  “Well, now that we’re here, I think it’s probably best if . . . .” I bit my lip and willed myself to continue. “We’re just friends.”

  He unleashed a blazing grin and ran his hand up my arm to my shoulder. “We are friends.” He reached over and grabbed one of my feet. He slid Vera’s flat off and gently stroked the top of my foot. Heat rose up my neck to my face. I fought the overwhelming
urge to push him down on the seat and throw my arms around him.

  “I know you’re worried about my family, but, I promise, what they don’t know won’t hurt them.”

  “I’m not worried about you hurting them.”

  His smiled faded. “Oh.” His hand stopped stroking my foot. “You’re worried I’ll hurt you?” His face fell. “Don’t you know anything about me by now?”

  He dropped my foot and started out the window. What I wanted to say was, I am madly in love with you, and you’re not in love with me and never will be.

  But I’d offended him somehow.

  I bent down to slip my shoe back on. I wanted to look anywhere but at him. We were on Broadway and the streets were jammed with cars and trucks. I was grateful for the spacious, air conditioned limousine.

  It was my carriage taking me to the ball.

  But at my ball, there would be no happily ever after with Prince Charming.

  “Lana, I’ll do whatever you want. You want to be friends, fine. It’s up to you,” he said.

  I did not want to be his friend.

  My cheeks burned. Sweat pricked my skin under the wool skirt.

  The driver turned to drive through Central Park and traffic slowed to a crawl. I wiped the glass clear so I could look outside. We were on a curving road that cut through the park. A cop right outside my window directed traffic around what looked like a massive construction project in the middle of the road.

  Alexander checked his watch. “Think you can walk the rest of the way, buddy? If we stay here, we’ll be late, old pal.”

  I scowled. I’d gotten my way. We were officially just friends.

  I’d won.

  But he’d agreed too fast. He hadn’t even objected! A pitiful object the same shape and size as my heart was getting ripped to ribbons in my chest.

  I swallowed hard and tugged my skirt down. “Let’s go.”

  He spoke the driver, who pulled over. Then we were out of the limo, blinking in the bright sun. We dashed through the line of stopped cars and headed for a bike path leading through the grass. It was still early, but the air was already humid and warm.

  He checked his watch again. “We better run.” He smiled. “You like going fast, right?”